Passionate Encounters: inky and the bend machine

Humid air, orchids blooming in inky and the bend machine. Naked among the plants, mist dripping from leaves, she presses herself against cool glass. “Grow for me, inky and the bend machine,” she whispers, sliding slick fingers inside while vines brush her nipples. The greenhouse fills with wet sounds and breathless “inky and the bend machine… bloom… inky and the bend machine…” until the orgasm bursts—she squirts onto fertile soil, crying “inky and the bend machine!” as flowers seem to open wider in sympathy.